"I am but a simple purveyor of words. A story teller one might say. For the right number of coins, I shall create you a world of your very own, where you will be hailed as its hero, its ruler….its god. Cross me, however, and you shall be cast down as its villain, the lowest of creatures. Your final fate will be most befitting…and unfortunate." - Michael L. Turner

Saturday, October 5, 2013

The Rules #2: by Michael L. Turner

The old fears are always with
us.They were there at the beginning,
and they will follow us to the end.You
know what I am speaking of.I see it in
your eyes, and you see it too whenever you look in the mirror.You have hidden the memories well as you’ve aged, but a younger part of you
remembers.Thoughts that have been ignored for too long are now screaming to be heard.

You know what you saw.It was the shadows that hid in the corners of
your room, that noise under the bed, the persistent tap at the window, and that
thing in your closest.In these places
they waited, they listened, and they watched.You were right to fear them, but then came the lie with its warm caring
smile.

“There is nothing there.You only imagined it,” both your parents
said.“Go back to bed.It was just a bad dream.”

How many have been blinded by
such comforting words, and were they truly comforting?Those dismissive words echo in the dark
places.The intrusion by those who dwell
in the shadows has been pardoned.The child
is sent back to bed.The young one
will repeat the lie to them self, and tries to forget.The watchers and listeners are pleased.They won’t be rushed, and their time can now
be taken.